A Red Apple
by SableUnstable
Summary: Harry wanted to go primary school. But he also didn't. He didn't want to leave Miss Evans, his nursery school teacher; he loved her too much. Why couldn't he have both? One-shot, Muggle!AU, Jily, Harry's POV.


**A Red Apple**

 **Disclaimer:** Can't say that I do own Harry Potter. Because that wouldn't be true, would it?

 **A/N –** This was written and posted on Tumblr ages ago and I've only just now remembered it isn't up here. I actually really love this little story. Hopefully you do to! :)

* * *

Harry loved his teacher. Miss Evans had long, shiny red hair and sparkly green eyes. Harry's eyes were green as well, but his were a darker green, whereas Miss Evans's were the green of the shirt Uncle Moony sometimes wore that Uncle Padfoot really liked. Her voice was kind and she told the best stories, and Harry was sure he was going to marry her one day.

That or his daddy was.

Harry didn't have a mum. His mum died when he was a baby and he knew his daddy sometimes still got sad about it. Harry didn't like that. He wanted a mum, quite desperately, but he was afraid of his daddy's sadness, so he didn't push. Instead, he dreamed of Miss Evans being his mum, a little more than he dreamed of marrying her if he was being honest. He loved it when she hugged him goodbye after nursery school was over, so much that he didn't want to let her go.

His best mate Ron had scoffed when he'd told him that. But Ron had a mum so he didn't understand. Hermione did, and she'd told Ron off, making the boy flush as red as his hair.

Although it wasn't as red as Miss Evans's was.

Harry thought maybe wish fairies were real the last day of nursery. He was a big boy now, going off to actual _school_ to join Hermione and Ron, and he was excited and terrified and terribly sad because he was leaving Miss Evans behind. So he couldn't help the tears that poured down his cheeks when she hugged him goodbye for the last time, his daddy watching from by the door. A watery hiccup erupted from him and Miss Evans pulled back with a concerned look on her pretty face.

"Sweet boy, what's wrong?" she asked, wiping his cheeks. The question made the tears start anew, noisy, snotty tears, and his daddy quickly walked over and pulled him into his arms.

"Harry? Son, what is it?"

"Don't… wanna… go!" Harry bawled, heart racing and face very hot against his daddy's neck. His daddy and Miss Evans exchanged a look over his head and his daddy picked him up and took him into the locker room, where there weren't any other kids around. He sat down on the floor and hugged him for a long time, rocking him from side to side and soothing his hand down Harry's back. Eventually, Harry's sobs calmed, and when he was only sniffling, his daddy carefully plopped him onto his feet and peered into his face.

Harry looked at the floor. He was embarrassed by his outburst, something he realised Miss Evans had witnessed because she'd followed his daddy and him into the locker room. His face burned hotter.

"Harry? What's wrong, kiddo?"

It felt like there was a big stone in Harry's throat. He couldn't stop his hands from twisting around each other and the floor was three separate colours, a fact he noticed because he was concentrating so hard on not looking up. He heard his daddy sigh and then a finger was under his chin, gently lifting it.

His daddy's features are blurred by the tears once again in his eyes. But Harry could still make out the messy black hair, hazel eyes and the glasses. And although he didn't have his daddy's eyes, he did share the hair and the glasses; just different ones. For some reason, noting the similarities made him feel better.

"Son, I need you to talk to me please. I can't help if you don't tell me what you're upset about," his daddy said, voice deep and calm and familiar. Harry sniffed and shot a quick look over his shoulder at Miss Evans, who smiled at him, her green eyes worried. The young boy let out a shaky sigh and looked at the ground again.

"Don't wanna go to school," he whispered, glancing up at his daddy and immediately dropping his gaze again when he saw the frown. Was his daddy angry? He really hoped he wasn't.

"Why not? I thought you were excited about it?" his daddy asked. He sounded confused, with something else under it that Harry couldn't identify. His arm shifted and Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as his hand lifted towards the other side of the room where Miss Evans was. Miss Evans pushed away from the wall, walked over and… and she…

 _She took his daddy's hand._

Harry gaped. Why was she doing that? You only held hands when you liked someone. Hermione had told him that when she'd held hands with Ron's brother George when they were over at Ron's house a while ago. Ron hadn't liked it but Harry hadn't seen anything wrong with it. It'd made both Hermione and George smile, and that had made Harry smile. He was happy with that.

Did Miss Evans like his daddy? Something hot and bubbly fizzed in his belly, and Harry looked away, back at his daddy. His daddy had a funny look on his face and he seemed to be watching Harry closely. The fizzy feeling moved up into his chest.

"Son?"

"Why are you holding her hand?" Harry blurted, staring owlishly at the offending appendages. Or not-so-offending. He really, really wanted to know the answer. And he really, really wanted a _certain_ answer. The feeling fizzed and popped and made it difficult to stand still.

His daddy swallowed so hard, Harry heard it.

"Because… because we… son, I like Miss Evans. Lily. I like her very much. And she likes me too. So she's going to be around a lot of that's okay with you. Is it okay with you?"

The fizzy feeling swelled and Harry looked at his teacher. "Are you my daddy's girlfriend?" he asked, the words tumbling out. Dark red eyebrows shot up and a surprised laugh escaped before the same funny look that was on his daddy's face twisted hers. She took a breath and looked at his daddy.

"Yes, Harry, I am," Miss Evans answered softly, and Harry couldn't contain the feeling in his chest any longer. He let out a yell and threw himself into his daddy's arms, squeezing him tight and then doing the same with Miss Evans.

"You'll be around! I'm not leaving you!" he crowed, voice muffled by her blouse. Miss Evans laughed again, a happy laugh, and Harry just heard his daddy let out a long sigh.

"Is that why you didn't want to go to school? Because you thought you wouldn't see me?" Miss Evans asked, her voice rumbling against Harry's cheek. He blinked and pulled back, gaze finding the floor again as he nodded shyly. Miss Evans did what his daddy had and lifted his chin.

"Sweetheart, even if your daddy and I hadn't already been together, I wouldn't have left you. I would've been around for as long as you needed me," she said, brushing back his hair. Another feeling bloomed in his chest as soft fingers carded through unruly locks, one that was unfamiliar but felt a lot like the hot, fizzy feeling from before. It made his heart race for an entirely different reason.

Overwhelmed, he went to his daddy. James opened his arms and pulled the young boy against his chest, tucking him into his shoulder. Kissing the top of his son's head, he stood up and once again held out his hand to Lily.

Happiness flooded him when she took it. He hadn't meant to reveal his relationship with her to Harry like he had, but he was elated the love of his life had taken it so well. Worry about Harry's reaction had been keeping him up a lot at night, and even though Padfoot and Moony had assured him Harry would be fine with it, James hadn't been so sure.

He loved the fact that Lily had been more than okay with keeping their relationship quiet until he found the courage to tell Harry about them. Truth be told, he was pretty sure he loved her altogether.

"Wanna go get some ice cream?" he murmured to the bundle in his arms. Harry nodded against his shoulder, and with his hand firmly wrapped in Lily's, they left on the hunt for cookie dough and strawberry-chocolate chip.

When James married Lily a year later, Harry was his best man.


End file.
